


Baby Girl?

by WrecklessImagine



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Case, F/M, Fluff, Love, Romance, Shock, Smut, bau
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:42:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrecklessImagine/pseuds/WrecklessImagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Has Derek finally met the woman to settle him down?  Or will her insecurities change the way he views her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rafters

Breathing hard, the cold air piercing your throat, you clamor up the dark alley, desperate to get to the roof.

Jumping up onto the hanging ladder, you pull yourself up three rungs before swinging your feet around.

“Hey! Where’d she go!?” you hear milk chocolate yell.

“I don’t know,” the gangly one said, doubling over trying to catch his breath.

Your thighs may rub together, but at least you weren’t out of shape.

Leaping up the ladder, you spill on over the rooftop, scouring the roof, dashing from side to side trying to find the man responsible for this.

For all of this.

“There she is!” you hear him shout again.

Taking a deep breath, you shake your head and take off your shirt. Sure, your midsection wiggled a bit, but you were proud of the body you inhabited. You had cushion that made grown men drool and sass that made them laugh.

And possessing both was a deadly combination.

It’s what made you so good at your operations.

But now, after 11 years of giving your life to black ops missions and deep cover jobs and infiltrating compounds, your reputation hangs in the balance when one man dares to bring about your mistake.

Your one...unpalatable...mistake.

He will ruin you if you cannot find him.

Getting a running start, you jump for the power line, throwing your shirt over it and propelling yourself down cascading wires, kicking yourself off of the power support beams in order to change direction. Leaving the two running men behind, you catch sight of your perpetrator.

Your predator.

Following him all the way out to the dock, he turn and looks at you before jumping into the water.

Water. Heh.

Kicking off of the last power line and letting go of your shirt, you plunge head-first into the icy water, your breath teasing a hitch, and you sink just enough to take your body into the darkness...

Until you hit a body.

Reaching out, your hand grasping for leverage, you cling onto his shirt as you kick your legs to resurface. Emerging from the cold, dark depths, you gasp for air, hearing his gurgle as you pull him to the ladder and throw him back up onto the dock.

Clamoring up the ladder and out of the water, you perform CPR, beating his chest and yelling at him to wake up. And just as you thought your only way out was gone, he coughs up the darkness that had threatened to take him.

Swiping your finger inside his mouth, you feel for his cyanide tooth, pulling it free before he can clamp down on his “coward pill.”

Flipping him over onto his back, you pull your handcuffs from your belt holding up your pants.

“You have the right to remain silent..”

As you pull him to his feet, continuing to read him his rights, a parade of black cars emerge from the darkness, casting their high beams on you as they yell at you thru a bullhorn to stand down.

Sighing, you bop the handcuffed man with the butts of your palms at his temples and hear him plummet to the wooden dock floor, watching the team slowly approach you with guns drawn.

“You’re under arrest,” the milk chocolate states.

“And what exactly are the charges?” you say, feeling the shivers start in your core.

Feeling your lips turn blue, a tall one emerges from the back...and your heart stops.

Aaron?

As you stand there, staring at him, he signals for his team to lower their weapons. Your body trembling uncontrollably now, he steps forward and takes off his coat, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“I see you haven’t changed,” he says, looking down at you.

He always did tower over you.

“Why are you chasing this man?”

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you will yourself out of your trance. “My career...um, he’s targeting me. I killed this man’s son in an attempt to bring down a cartel boss. He’s angry.”

Nodding slowly, he stares at you, waiting for you to continue...sensing that there is more. But when you stay silent, he sighs and looks at the man lying unconscious on the dock.

“Fits this man’s MO. He’s been targeting many people that have been associated with this cartel. Do the names Raymond and Nikito ring a bell?”

And before you can catch yourself, you reach out and grab his hand, pulling him close to his face.

“What did he do to them?” you sneer.

“Nothing, they came to me.”

Furrowing your brow, your breath hitches.

“They said that you would be his last target,” Aaron said to you, grunting at the pressure you were putting on his wrist.

Letting go, he shakes his wrist out and looks back at you. “How do you know them?”

Looking around confused, and back into Aaron’s eyes, you whisper, “The same way you know me.”

Watching Aaron’s jaw unclench for the first time since seeing you, he gestures over to his team, waving for them to come over. As they all come closer, you recognize the two that were chasing after you earlier.

“That stunt was impressive,” milk chocolate says, looking you up and down. “I would’ve never taken you for a stunt gal. Derek Morgan,“ he chuckles, holding out his hand.

“Most people never do...because of my body fat percentage.”

As his face drops, he double backs his comment, “No, no, I just mean that...”

When Aaron holds out his hand, signaling him to stop, he shoots him a glance. “It’s alright. She’s with me.”

And as he starts to brief the team on your background with Aaron, you can’t help but take another glance him...

Derek.


	2. Rooted

Turning as you hear the unconscious man grunting, you bend down and pull him to his feet. You were cold, tired, and frustrated...and you just wanted to sleep.

As Aaron wraps up his shpeal with the team about the mission you two worked together, you drag him over to the police vehicle he was to be transported in.

Shoving him into the back of the car, he looks up and spits in your face.

“How romantic,” you retort, wiping it off of your face.

“Looks like fat asses are getting stronger,” he says, “Guess I’ll have to train harder in prison.”

Feeling the anger well up into your chest, you bend down, your wide hips jutting out to the side, and you lean down into his face.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?” you lull. “When being romantic, spit doesn’t go on your face…”

Taking your fist and punching him in his crotch, you whisper into his ear as he doubles over and groans, “it goes on your dick.”

Shutting the door and banging the roof of the car, the flashing lights pull away as a chuckle slowly builds behind you.

Turning around, you see milk chocolate in front of you, slits for eyes and teeth for days.

“That was…creative,” he muses, his cheeks turning a different shade of red. “Never thought a woman like yourself would have such a mouth.”

“You mean a woman who uses her shirt to zip down power lines after wanted men shouldn't be known for having a potty mouth?” you say, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Holding out his hand again, he says, “The name’s Derek Morgan.”

Looking at his hand, you nod. “Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

Furrowing his brow, he puts it down, “Not a toucher?”

As your expression sinks a bit, you mumble, “Not necessarily, no.”

Not pressing the subject, Aaron walks back up to your side. “We are heading back to DC in the morning, care to join us? We could all use the rest.”

“I did what I came here to do, so I’ll travel back tonight,” you say, trying to avoid any more time around your past.

“Well, here’s my card,” Aaron says, writing a number on the back. “I really want to talk with you when we get back into town. Please call, come by, something.”

Nodding, you take the card, sliding it into your bra. You go to give him his jacket back, but he holds his hand up, signaling you to keep it.

Thank god.

Turning your back on the team, you hear someone walking alongside you. Stopping to take a look, you see that it’s Derek.

“Is there a problem?” you ask.

“Just making sure you get back safely, baby girl.”

Spinning around on your heels, you stop dead in your tracks. “First off, I am not, nor will I ever be, anyone’s ‘baby girl,’“ you retort. “Second, I do not need protection, much less an escort. And third, while your attempt at flirting is an honor, it won't be reciprocated. I have been many people and have held many lives. I have taken on many names and been introduced to many hobbies. And every single one of those people who had those names and interests in those hobbies have been in sexual situations of every shape, color, type, and ferocity. I can assure you that: 1) there is nothing new you can show me and, 2) there is nothing you can do get me to be with you…because while all of those personalities and lives and personae have been on many dates and have had many sexual encounters, this one,” you gesture to your body, “has never had any.”

Seeing Derek with his eyes wide was a sight that you're not sure many had beheld. You were shaking in your spot, moreso from embarrassment than from temperature, and when he stays silent, you continue.

“This person, Y/F/N Y/L/N, has never been so much as kissed. Every mission, every job, every task has always required a certain…sexual component,” you spit. “I have never been touched without a set of strings encompassing me and wringing me dry…and I don’t intend to start believing that such things can happen now.”

Turning to walk away, Derek reaches out and takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb in the palm of your hand gently.

Whipping your head around to look at him, your face contorted with shock, he steps forward.

“Well, now you know it exists.”

And as he drapes his jacket around your already covered shoulders, he turns around and walks away, leaving you rooted to the ground.


	3. Part of the Team

Waking up in your apartment, you groan into your pillow. Your entire body was sore from earlier this week, and you just wanted to sleep until it was gone. But as you looked at the clock and saw it was 2 pm, you sigh and heave yourself out of bed.

Looking to the floor, you see your bra thrown in the corner, and something catches the corner of your eye.

The card.

Picking it up, you finger it between your thumbs. You had vowed that when you retired you would leave your past behind, yet you still hadn’t left DC.

What could it hurt?

Picking up your cell phone, you dial the number on the back.

“Hotchner speaking.”

“Hello,” you said.

Hearing silence on the other end, you look at the phone to see if you had been disconnected. “Hello?”

Putting the phone back to your ear, you hear him clear his throat. “Y/N. I honestly didn’t expect you to call.”

“Neither did I,” you reply.

“It’s late, but I haven’t had lunch yet,” he says.

“I can remedy that. Same as always?”

“For old time’s sake, yes,” he says.

Hanging up the phone, you throw on a pair of high waisted slacks and a deep-shouldered shirt. After all, you hated things close around your neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking into the FBI front office, the guard orders you to empty your pockets and place your purse in a bin. Walking thru the metal detector, you grab your stuff, sling your purse back over your shoulder, and mosey on over to the elevator.

“Level 7,” you mumble, pressing the “up” arrow on the wall.

Sighing, you feel someone approach you from the side.

“Hello, again.”

That voice.

Turning your head, you see Derek grinning slyly at your side. Chuckling and shaking your head, the elevator doors open and you both step in.

“Where to?” he asks, pushing the number 7 on the panel.

“Same floor,” you say.

Watching him cock an eyebrow out of the corner of your eye, you stifle a smile. You found that you enjoyed getting a rise out of him.

“So what brings you back around? We all figured you were 'gone with the darkness,' as Hotch put it.”

“I decided to try something against the usual,” you retort.

“Hmmm,” was all the response he mustered, and when you found yourself cocking an eyebrow at him, he chuckled in response.

“Looks like it works both ways,” he mumbles.

Turning your head and staring in disbelief, you couldn’t imagine someone being in your head. He didn’t know what you were thinking. There’s no way. You were complicated. You were jaded. You had a past…a history.

No way.

Hearing the elevator doors ding, Derek motions for you to step out first.

“Hotch’s office is up those stairs,” he bends down and lowers his voice into your ear, causing a silent shiver to creep up your spine. Thank god he turned down the hallway before he saw the hairs stand up on your arms.

Venturing into the main room of the floor, all heads turn your way as you bound up the steps and knock on Aaron’s door.

“Come on in,” he smiles.

You set the sandwich and fries with an extra pickle on his desk and take a seat with your chicken wrap and fruit salad.

“So!” you chime.

“So…” Aaron trails off.

“Something is on your mind,” you declare. “Give me the punchline and then start from the beginning.”

“Alright,” he says, swallowing hard and taking a sip of his drink.

“I want you on my team.”

Choking on the grape you inhaled, you cough profusely as Aaron sits and looks at you anxiously.

“You what?”

“I want you on my team.”

“Alright, double back time,” you say, holding up your hand. “How did this come about?”

“It happened when I realized you weren’t dead,” he said, and you could’ve sworn you heard a hitch in his breath.

Furrowing your brow, you find yourself unable to formulate a reply.

“You though I was dead?” you enunciate.

Watching him nod, you sigh, realizing that you had both been lied to.

“Well, I wasn’t told that you were dead, but I was told that the reason you weren’t at the extraction point was because your plan all along was to leave me behind to be killed.”

As his gaze shoots up, his face reddens. You knew when he was angry, but you had never seen him quite like this.

“I did not!” he roared, standing up from his chair, slamming it into the wall as books and pictures tumbled from his desk. “I was told you were dead. I was even shown a picture of your body!”

You could feel the eyes from the main floor staring up at the two of you. Stepping closer to Aaron, you reach your hand out hesitantly before deciding otherwise.

“Aaron, we were told very different things because someone else had a different outcome for that job. And now, we have proof.”

Furrowing his brow, he starts digging thru the papers on his desk.

You didn’t know who, and you didn’t know why, but you knew…right then and there…that you would join the team.

If anything, so you could find the person responsible for the lies and the deceit.

Because you had a sneaking suspicion that whomever was behind this was also the person trying to kill you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking out of Aaron’s office, side by side, he bellows over the crowd below.

“Everyone! This is Y/F/N Y/L/N. She is the newest member of the BAU. Make her feel welcome.”

As everyone stares with their jaws unhinged, you lean over and whisper into his ear, “I don’t think this will be a popular decision.”

As he looks over at you with a sly glance, he smirks ever so lightly. Shaking your head at him, you know that he doesn’t care. You knew that you weren’t here to benefit the team.

You were here to catch a predator. And that’s what you intended on doing.

“I’ll get you your credentials and side arm tomorrow,” he says as he walks back into his office. We report by 9, unless something comes up. Here is your work phone,” he hands you an ancient relic of a flip phone, “it’s already programmed with everyone’s numbers in it, and I will pass out your work number for them to have.”

Nodding, you take the phone from him and start walking down the stairs. You hear everyone’s phones ding and vibrate, assuming that meant a message with your number had come thru.

As everyone pats you on the shoulder and congratulates you on the position, a bubbly blonde comes up to you and holds out her hand.

“You are incredible, and wonderful, and I’m so excited to have you as a part of our family!”

Chuckling lightly, you shake her hand wearily. “Sorry, not huge on physical contact, but thank you for the welcome.”

As she continues to smile at you, the team introduces themselves and starts asking you random “get to know you” sorts of questions, and while you couldn’t talk about a lot of your past, most of these questions you could answer without ruining classified information.

But when you slowly start breaking away from the group, making your way towards the elevator, whom would emerge into your path than the infamous Derek Morgan.

“Well, hello again,” you say, startled as he rounds the corner.

“Hello,” he says. “I hear a congratulations is in order.”

Smiling lightly, you look down at your feet.

Why am I looking down?

After a brief and uncomfortable pause, you draw in a deep breath and raise your head up, only for him to be looking at his phone and smiling.

“What?” you ask, wanting to know what was so funny.

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head and shutting his phone.

Shrugging your shoulders, you feel him lightly grasp your arm as he leans in to your ear.

“I just find it funny how easy it was to get your number.”

And as he lets you go, you have to take a second to compose your legs, for you felt your knees trembling underneath the weight of your warming body.


	4. Correction

It had been two months with the team, and you and Hotch hadn’t so much as come upon a name to connect to the job that had forced the two of you to go your separate ways. And it was frustrating. Your free time was spent digging thru redacted files and trying to dig up encrypted emails, and every single lead was a dead end.

Until now.

The team had been called to a small down in North Dakota, where a series of suicides had occurred in a small town whose biggest crime in the past 4 years had been the death of too many cows from cow-tipping.

The coroner had found a massive amount of some long mumbo-jumbo named drug, and then boy genius made some sort of wild connection that you were still convinced he pulled out of his tightly clenched butt-hole, and you were essentially the attack dog...you were ordered to “sic ‘em” once you got close enough.

You knew you had other talents, other attributes that could be of use to the team, but you also didn’t want to step on others’ toes. Plus, them thinking you were just a “Morgan with boobs” (nickname courtesy of J.J. when she thought you weren’t around) freed up some time to keep searching and plodding along with why you were really here.

Dragging the man into the room you had just chased down and tackled, he mumbled some wise-crack about your weight under his breath. You were used to it by now, it seemed to be the only jab people could make about you, showing their incredible lack of knowledge about yourself as well as their lack of creativity on the spot.

Sighing, you turn to walk out of the room, until he turns and says that name.

“Thaddeus Naron.”

Freezing in your spot, you slowly turn back around, feeling the burn ebb within the pit of your stomach.

“What did you say?” trying to keep your voice steady.

“Thaddeus. Naron.” he enunciates.

Slowly walking over and sitting back down, you don’t realize that Morgan has stepped into the room and off to the side.

“How do you know that name?”

“One condition,” he muses.

Blinking, you stay silent, steadying your breathing, not wanting to give away how incredibly startled, and very desperate, you were for any connection to that name.

“What?” you spit.

“I want to know how much you weigh.”

Furrowing your brow, you nod your head, agreeing to his terms.

“Thaddeus Naron is a deep-web master. He orchestrates symphonies of chaos in the hope of creating entertainment. Then, he pops his popcorn and watches the movie play out.”

Blinking, you throw your head back and laugh. “Everyone knows that,” you say, just before he slams his fists into the table.

“He will come for you, Y/N.”

Snapping your head back into position, you lean forward, feeling his breath on your face, “How do you know my name?”

“He will come for you,” he chuckles maniacally, “And he will come for them. And then a choice will be made. A choice he had to make once. A choice Aaron has already made.”

As he continues laughing, you slam your fist on the table, making him jump. “We. Are not. Pawns.”

Shaking with fury, the nameless man in front of you shakes his head. “You don’t get it, do you? You really don’t get it.”

Sitting down in your seat, you lean back, exasperated. Morgan finally approaches you, startling you as you jump out of your seat and crouch into an attack position.

“Whoa, baby girl,” he says holding his hands up.

“What? You didn’t know he was there!?” the man says, laughing so hard he can hardly catch his breath. “Are you really slipping that much, Y/N?”

“What is this connection to me and Aaron!?” you scream, burrowing both of your palms into the table, not knowing that Hotch has been looking on the entire time behind the two-sided glass.

“There is no elaborate plan, Miss Y/N,” he snarls. “No connection, no plot, no conniving manipulation. Just pure, unadulterated revenge.”

“Revenge over what?” you lower your voice and bend your body over the table, your nails digging down into the cold surface of the wood.

“Over the death of Nathaniel,” he hisses.

As your face pales, you stumble back, plopping down into the chair as Morgan’s hand suddenly appears on your shoulder.

“Baby girl...?” he implores, darting between looks of concern over you and looks of disgust over him.

“204,” you mumble.

“What was that?” the nameless man says, holding his hand to his ear.

“204,” you say again.

“Ahhhh,” he says, sinking back into his chair. “My my, I knew you were thick, but...I didn’t know you were so...plump,” he says, popping the “p.”

Sitting up in your seat, you straighten your back. “I am fat. I am not plump. I am not rotund, fluffy, soft, or round. I. Am. Fat. And do you know what you do for women like me who break the rules and walk with confidence right up to the register to order a double bacon cheeseburger with fries?”

As the man smirks at your outburst, you lean over and whisper, “You order her an extra set of fries,” you lull in a whisper.

Getting up from your seat, you walk over and put your hand on his shoulder, pressing down on a pressure point, doubling him over into your arm that is supporting his head as he yelps in pain.

“And unless I am sitting on your face, my weight is none of your concern.”

And as you turn back and wink at Morgan, whose jaw has unhinged itself and plummeted to the floor, you swiftly open the door and saunter out, leaving Morgan to finish off the suspect in shock (and, lets face it, a bit of awe) while Aaron broods behind the two-way glass.


	5. Hotel Room

Sitting in your hotel room, you sigh. You had just taken a shower, and you couldn’t muster the energy to dry yourself off with the towel that wouldn’t quite close around your body. Letting your hair soak the back between your shoulder blades, you bow your head to the ground.

Nathaniel.

You had tried so hard, for so many nights, to push that incident out of your head. For years, you had tried to forget that name, erase that face, wipe that horrible night from your memory.

And yet, that would be a complete and total insult to what that brave little boy had done that night.

Feeling your eyes begin to burn, you jump as you hear someone knock on the door.

“Baby girl?”

Sighing, you shake your head lightly. “I told you not to call me that,” you yell out.

“Alright, beautiful,” he says from the other side of the door, causing you to furrow your brow.

“Are you mocking me, Morgan?” you hiss, jumping up from the bed and walking over to the door.

“Not at all,” he says coolly. “May I come in?”

“Give me a second to get decent.”

Met with silence, you quickly towel dry your hair and slip into your nightgown, a deep green satiny material with a built-in bra for your protruding chest that draped very well over your…curves.

Flipping the latch and undoing the chain, you open the door to a worried, exasperated Morgan.

“Hey there, I just wanted t-”

As he looks up at you, he loses his train of thought. His eyes slowly wander your body, realizing that this is the first time he has ever seen you in something that follows the lines of your body rather than covering them. Lingering a little too long on your chest, you clear your throat, moving to the side to silently usher him.

As he walks in, you close the door and fold your arms over your chest. “Is everything alright?” you ask him, smirking ever so lightly at the idea that you could actually render a man like him speechless.

“Yes, beautiful,” he enunciates the word, “Everything is fine with me. I was coming to check on you.”

“I take it Hotch told you about…” you drift off, swallowing hard.

“No, he said that it was only your story to tell…no one else’s.”

Bless that man.

Nodding slowly, you respond to his question, “Yes, I am fine. Or, at least I will be.”

“You know, I’m here…if you ever want to talk,” he says, taking a step towards you.

“Oh, no you don’t,” you say, holding up your finger.

“No, No, I wasn’t trying to…you know, make a pass at you,” he says holding up his hands.

Furrowing your brow, you cock your hip out. “I’m slightly offended, Derek Morgan,” you say in a mocking tone, “I was going to say that you weren’t going to try and ‘big brother’ me the way you do the others around here. I had a brother once, and that backfired in a very real way…and plus, I would feel weird looking at my ‘big brother’ and finding him attractive.”

Widening your eyes at the last statement, you curl your lips in as Derek chuckles at you.

“Attractive, huh?” he says, taking another step towards you.

“You know, for a buff guy,” you say, shrugging your shoulders, hoping to downplay the very apparent attraction that was behind your statement.

“For a buff guy,” he repeats, stepping closer to you.

Feeling his body heat radiate against your skin, your breathing picks up a bit as he takes your hand in his.

“You know, they say it’s a very basic, and primal, urge to want a woman with a little more…love to give,” he lowers his voice, running his fingertips up your arm. “They say that women like that are better partners for many reasons: healthier children, healthier pregnancies, healthier sexual appetites…”

As he lets his sentence trail off, on any other day, and from any other man, that would have been a horrific statement that you would have shot back at as you turned around and skulked off.

But this was different.

This was…electrifying.

“T-the…the touching…” you stutter, not wanting to shrug his touch away.

He chuckles lustily as he closes the distance, pressing his body completely into yours. “Beautiful,” he lowers his voice, making the skin on your body crawl with excitement as he leans his forehead in to yours.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, bending down and placing a very light kiss just behind your ear, and as you sigh desperately into the crook of his neck, a knock comes at the door.

“Y/N?” you hear Hotch say. “I wanted to come by and see how you were.”

Shaking from head to toe, Derek pulls back, smiling down at you as he takes your other hand, bringing both of them to his lips to kiss.

“Until next time,” he says, winking at you.

Watching him walk to the door, you pick your slobbering jaw up off of the floor and attempt to compose yourself as he swings the door open for Hotch.

“Oh, hey, Morgan,” Hotch says, surprised. “Is she alright?” he whispers at him as he walks out of the room.

Turning back to look at you, he smiles and turns back to Hotch. “She’s…just fine.”

And as Hotch turns to come into the room to talk, Morgan gives you a light wink from the hallway, just before the door shuts him out completely.


	6. Choice

Walking into your apartment, you go into your room and repack your go bag. Everything in it was disgustingly dirty, and you wanted to give your hands something to do.

Anything to get your mind off of Derek.

Sighing, you flop down on your bed, your boobs hiking your shirt above your belly-button as your stomach gives itself a couple more flops than you were comfortable with.

What you couldn’t figure out was why Derek, after all of the stunts you’ve pulled to keep him at arms distance, insisted on being nose distance.

Whipping you out of your dream world, your cell phone rings in the distance. Picking it up, you answer without looking at the caller ID.

“Y/L/N,” you say.

“Hello, Y/F/N.”

Furrowing your brow, you look at your phone, trying to obtain a number.

“Who is this?”

“Y/N, run!”

As you hear a distant pop, your eyes widen as you recognize Nikito’s scream.

“Who is this!?” you yell into your phone.

“Poor Nathaniel,” the voice drawls.

Feeling your skin crawl, you choke down your own vomit, looking for something you can use to trace the phone call.

“No one ever stops to think about poor Brandon,” the voice spits.

“Where’s Raymond? Where do you have them?” you plead for an answer.

Silence.

“Where are they!?” you scream into the phone.

“Better hurryyyyyyy,” the voice teases before the call goes dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barging into the office, you had frantically called the entire team. You knew it was time to tell them the story, because you knew it was your only hope of finding Raymond and Nikito.

As the team runs in and sits, watching your every reaction, you cross your arms. “Brandon Bates,” you state.

“The serial child killer,” Rossi responds. “We chased him for weeks.”

“I know,” you say, looking up to meet his gaze. “I was the one that caught him.”

As everyone stays silent, Rossi’s eyebrows shoot up as you swallow hard. “When we finally had Brandon cornered, he had a little boy...Nathaniel...in his arms,” you say as your eyes mist over. Derek looks at you with his longingly empathetic eyes as your body begins to shake. “He had a gun to his head, and I wanted to trade myself for him. Offer him anything and everything he could have possibly done to me in exchange for the boy.”

Looking up, you find Hotch’s eyes, steadying yourself as you continue, “but Brandon wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t give in…he was absolutely determined to kill Nathaniel. Some sort of...last stand,” you spit, “...as you might call it.”

Shuffling on your feet, you continue as tears begin to fall, “a-and…when I...when I looked Nathaniel in his eyes, h-he…he just knew. He knew what I was thinking a-and he...he nodded, you know? It was...it was like he knew what had to happen. He was so brave, and so courageous…and so very smart…”

Shaking your head, your chest heaving, Derek leaps across the table separating you two and grasps your hands in his, leaning his forehead into yours.

“So...I shot thru the little boy. Right into the heart of Brandon Bates.”

As the team looks at you with shock and sympathy, Derek wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“I can’t possibly imagine…” he trails off.

“And now they have Raymond. And Nikito!” you throw your hands in the air, pushing Derek off of you.

“What did I tell you about the touching!?” you yell at him, your fists clenched.

“Why!?” bellows back, his frustration getting the best of him. Taking a step towards you, he calms himself and asks, “Why won’t you let me in?”

Taking a deep breath, you look straight into his eyes, “Because I know who this man is, and if he has been doing the research I know he has, then the only people he has seen me show emotion towards are you,” you point to Derek, “…and Aaron.”

Pointing to Aaron, realization crosses Derek’s face as Hotch furrows his brow and casts his gaze down.

“And all I know is that a choice is coming...and there is a good chance that someone is going to die.”


	7. No!

As you leave the team to think upon what you’ve just told them, you drag your body to your desk and plop down into your chair. Putting your forehead onto the desk, you lightly beat it, over and over, on the edge.

“We’re going to find them,” Garcia says, coming up and rubbing your back from behind.

“Enough with the touching!” you yell, jumping up and slamming your chair into the wall behind you. “Damn it!”

As Garcia’s eyes widen, she takes a step back from you as your contorted face slowly registers your out-of-control emotions.

“Garcia, I-” and as you reach for her hand, she slowly backs away from you.

As your eyes plead with her to stay with you, she turns her back and shuffles away.

Shaking your head, you curse under your breath as you turn your computer on, willing the phone to ring again so you can trace it.

But once your screen opens up, you realize it’s not necessary.

“Garcia!” you yell, running after her. “Garcia, please! Help!”

As she pokes her head around the corner, you grab her arm and drag her back to your desk.

On the screen, in high definition, is a video feed of Raymond and Nikito, encased in some sort of box, tied to chairs with implosion bombs around their necks.

As her eyes widen, she runs to get her laptop, starting a trace immediately on the video feed.

Hearing her laptop ping, she gives you a worried look. “That was a bit too easy, Y/L/N.”

“I know,” you slowly nod. “That’s the point.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling up to the warehouse, you jump out of the car and sprint into the building. You hear Morgan growl at Aaron as he catches him and tells him to stand down.

“She can take care of herself,” you hear Aaron say.

“She’s gonna get herself killed!” Morgan yells, just before the door shuts behind you.

As lights begin to illuminate the long, cob-webbed corridor, you draw your weapon and slowly pace down the hallway. Passing light after light, you round a corner to your left as it dumps you out into a huge open room.

“Welcome,” you hear a voice say as the flood lights turn on, revealing Raymond and Nikito, battered and bruised, encased in front of you.

“Blast-proof glass,” a man tinks with his knuckles. “The strongest in the department.”

As your entire body seethes with anger, you will your body and voice to stand still. “Hello, Mr. Bates.”

Looking at you with shock, you can tell he wasn’t expecting you to know who he was. Smirking at him, you slowly approach the encasement containing the only two men on this earth you have ever trusted.

The only two you’ve ever loved.

As you put your hand to the glass, you try to give them a reassuring smile.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he whispers into your ear.

Whipping around, your hand makes contact with his jaw, the crack echoing off the corners of the open warehouse.

Hearing him chuckle, he rears his hand back and throws a punch, and as you wheel around, you catch a cascade of red lights.

Picking yourself up off of the ground, you look at the red lights flashing in the corners of the room.

“Don’t worry…I made sure our audience would have the perfect seats,” he says, smiling with his crooked, yellow teeth.

They can see me.

“Let them go,” you plead, turning back around to him.

“You know, Aaron had to make a choice once…you know, when the two of you were working,“ he says pointedly

Standing still, you clench your hands into fists.

“He was told that he could either fly off with the girls, ensuring their safety…or he could wait for you, and potentially get everyone killed.”

“He made the right decision,” you state, trying to keep your calm. “Simple numbers game.”

“Is it, though?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, all the while circling Raymond and NIkito’s cage. “Just a numbers game, I mean.”

“Number games are easy,” you say, a bit more hesitantly.

“Oh, then this game should be quite easy for you,” Mr. Bates smiles joyfully, clapping his hands together.

Furrowing your brow, he continues, “You are more than welcome to Raymond and Nikito. I will disarm the bombs, and you can take them home.”

Keeping silent, your gaze fixed on him, he continues, “All you have to do…is give me Derek.”

Outside, the team looks at Derek, who starts for the front door. “No!” Aaron and Spencer yell, jumping on him, trying to hold him back.

As your eyes widen, you look towards Raymond and Nikito.

“Two for one,” Mr. Bates says. “Just a simple, easy numbers game.” Mr. Bates was in full-blown enjoyment mood… his solid erection included.

As your gaze slowly drifts back towards him, you suck in a sharp breath. “You can have me.”

“No!” Morgan yells, clamoring on the ground more than ever to get to the door.

“You…?” Mr. Bates says, with his eyebrows furrowed. “I…didn’t expect you to do that.”

“You let them all go, and you can have me. In any way…in any capacity…you wish. The woman who killed your son.”

Holding your arms out, Mr. Bates takes a couple of steps towards you.

“All you have to do, is disarm the bombs, and let them walk away.”

As he pauses to ponder this altered deal, your breathing starts to pick up. You watch as he slowly walks to the other side of the blast-proof glass, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

“No.”

As your eyes widen, you dive for the cage just as the bombs explode, splattering Raymond and Nikito’s torsos all around the inside of the glass cage.

“Nooooooo!” you yell as your body collides with the glass, scratching and banging as tears cascade down your cheeks, your fingernails peeling back as you try to reach the brain matter splattered against the glass.

“Raymooooooond!”

You yell and cry as snot drips out of your nose and down your chin, screaming and clawing at the glass, trying desperately to get to them as you hear Mr. Bates laughing above your hysterics.

“Oh my gooooood!!!” you scream, collapsing, your forehead on the glass, sobbing and heaving and vomiting at your feet as you look at the two headless bodies of your best friends laying in a pool of their own brain matter.

And just as you collapse onto the floor, trembling and sobbing uncontrollably, you hear the team burst into the room, tackling the laughing Mr. Bates, as Derek scoops you up in his arms and holds you close.


	8. Caretaker

As the world around you moves in slow motion, your chest continues to heave the invisible contents of your empty stomach up to your throat. Derek kisses the top of your head, wiping the snot and tears from your face with the under part of his shirt, cooing in your ear as you slowly come back to reality.

Pushing up onto your feet, you dash over to where Aaron has Mr. Bates handcuffed and, incidentally, bleeding from the nose.

Towering over him, you glance down to look at his face, cocking your head to the side.

“I. Win.” he mouthes to you, just as Reid and J.J. rip him to his feet and drag him out of the building.

The world in a haze, tears continue to stream down your face as you slowly approach the lock on the door.

“Y/N,” Derek puts his hand on top of yours on the key pad. “Don’t.”

Looking over at him, you spit, “I saved your life. Now back. Up.”

As he slowly backs away from you, you punch in the numbers “061415.”

Today’s date.

The day he won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t recall the ride back to the office, and you don’t recall the multiple questions people asked in order to get your account of what happened. You don’t even remember everyone taking shifts to sit with you at the window.

All you remember is that deafening crash.

And all that red.

As your sobbing strikes up again, you lean your head to the side, only to feel it hit something on the way down.

Startled, you look over and see Derek sitting next to you.

“It’s alright, beautiful, you can use it,” he says, glancing down at his shoulder.

Laying your head back down, your sobs hit an all-time heave as Derek slips his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“I am so sorry,” he mutters into your disheveled hair, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

Feeling hands on your knees, you look down and see Aaron crouching in front of you.

“Go home,” he soothes. “Just…go home. Take Morgan with you, if you want,” he nods over to the man beside you, “And don’t come back…either of you…until you are ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Derek slowly guides you into your apartment, you blindly walk into your room. You stand in front of your full length mirror, your clothes bloody and crooked, your jaw bruised and arms battered, you still feel the tug to cry, but your tear ducts have wrung themselves dry.

Sighing, you slip out of your clothes and dredge into your bathroom, striking up the hottest shower you can possibly withstand. Hopping in, you forget to close the bathroom door, reaching for the soap and scrub to wipe yourself clean. You scrub hard, and you scrub deep, and as you rip layer upon layer of skin back, you start to sob again, wishing everything would go away…that you would wake up from this terrible, horrible nightmare.

“Y/N?” Derek asks as he sticks his head around the corner. “Do you nee-”

As you are crouched in the corner of the oversized shower, sobbing into your hands, he slowly walks in and sits down on the floor of the bathroom, sticking his hand in the shower, searching for yours.

“I’m right here,” he soothes, and as you stick your hand out, he catches sight of your arm and leaps to his feet.

“Oh god, Y/N," he sighs, throwing the frosted shower door to the side as you cover your naked body with your arms and legs. “Oh, jesus…” he trails off as he drops to his knees to inspect your bleeding arms.

As your jaw continues to quiver, he moves the mess of hair from your face as he searches your eyes. You bring your eyes to meet his for the first time since you told him to back off, and as they silently plead with him to leave you alone, he leans in and gives you a light kiss on your forehead.

“No,” he states.

Leaving to go get a first aid kit, he takes off his dripping wet shirt. Staring at him as he leaves, you curl back up into the corner of the shower.

You drift off into your own world, and you end up not resurfacing until the shower gets turned off and you feel Derek’s bare arms around you again.

Furrowing your brow up at him, he smiles down at you sadly. “Welcome back,” he lowers his voice, carrying you to a chair to sit you on, wrapping a towel around your shoulders. You don’t care that you're naked. You don’t care that he washed you down. You don’t even care that he’s shirtless.

Nothing matters anymore.

“They’re gone,” you whisper. “They’re just…gone.”

As Derek’s eyes search yours, you slowly turn your gaze to him. Holding up your bandaged arms, you sigh. “I apologize,” you say robotically, “There was just…so much blood, and I…I wanted it gone and…”

As Derek pulls you into his bare chest, you breathe him in deep as he coos sweet nothings into your ear. “It’s alright, beautiful…I know…It’s ok…”

“Their bodies…” you choke before fresh tears rumble their way out onto his chest. Feeling him squeeze you tighter, you heave yourself off of the chair and wraps your arms around him, pulling him as close as you can get him.

“Oh god,” you whisper as you take in ragged breaths, desperately trying to match his steady breathing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up the next morning in one of Derek’s shirts. Furrowing your brow, you hold your aching head as you sit yourself up.

Looking over at your clock, you realize it’s 11 am, and beside it is a note, a glass of water, and 3 pills.

For the headache, the note says.

Throwing back the pills and downing the water, you close your puffy red eyes as you gather Derek’s shirt up to your face. You loved the way he smelled, and you felt a twinge of dread at the realization that he may have left.

Until he comes in with a tray.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he says, holding a tray of eggs and bacon.

Looking over at him, you smile lightly, reaching your hands out for the food.

“I have toast that’s about ready and the coffee is still percolating,” he says, sitting down beside you and putting the tray on your lap. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his eyes covered in concern.

“My head aches, and my heart aches, but oddly enough…no nightmares,” you croak out.

“Don’t worry…those will come with time,” he looks at you with a weary expression.

“Gee, thanks,” you throw back sarcastically, and as you go to pick up your fork, he takes your hand in his.

“I never said you were going to do them alone,” his gaze becomes stern and serious as your eyes find him.

And as you lean your face to his, your mind unaware of what your body is doing before it can protest, you pull his hand, moving his body towards yours as you crash a kiss onto his lips.


	9. Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning for this chapter.

It had been a month since the breakfast kiss, and while Derek made no attempts to go back to work, he also made no attempts to reciprocate your action that morning. You could cut the tension with a knife, and while you knew that it was affecting your ability to process everything that had happened, if it was affecting him?…he gave no indication.

Sitting on your couch, reading a book, Derek slowly emerges from the bedroom, stretching his arms as he yawns.

“That was a wonderful nap,” he exclaims thru long, treacherous yawns.

“I’m glad,” you say, your eyes not leaving your book.

Feeling the couch sink next to you, you feel his arm push its way around your waist, pulling you flush into him.

“How are you feeling?”

Sighing, you knew there would never be a "proper time" to apologize for your actions.

Setting your book down, you turn your body towards him, wiggling out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

“For what?” he asks.

He sounds genuinely confused.

“For that…kiss…” you draw out.

As the both of you stay silent, you hear Derek sigh.

“Are you sure?”

Furrowing your brow, you ask, “Sure of what?”

“That you’re sorry.”

What?

“Yes? Of course I’m sorry, Derek,” you say, taking his hand in yours. “I was confused and emotional, and I took advantage of the kindness you were showing me in an incredible time of need, and I am sorry if you felt the growing pressure to reciprocate that sort of action.”

As he looks at you with a perplexed face, you let go of his hand.

“Well, I’m not sorry,” he responds.

“Not sorry for what?”

Sighing, he gets up off of the couch and comes around to you, crouching down on his knees in between your bare legs.

“That kiss was incredible, and I’m not sorry that it happened.”

Shocked, you open your mouth, but find yourself at a loss for words.

“The reason I didn’t reciprocate was because I knew you were in an emotional state. I knew that you were vulnerable, and I knew that if I pursued it, there was a chance that it would be seen as me taking advantage of you…should you have come back from this experience and realized that it was not…something you ultimately wanted.”

Stunned, you feel your body slowly being lifted from the couch. Realizing that Derek has moved closer to you, he had aided you in hooking your legs around his waist, holding you underneath as he lifts you up.

Wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself, your face presses closer into his, your noses only millimeters apart.

“What do you want?” Derek breathes.

As you open your mouth once again, you feel your entire body flush with excitement.

“Tell me,” he pleads, leaning his forehead into yours as he slowly turns you towards your bedroom door.

“You,” you whisper.

Feeling him start to walk, he glides you thru the door of your bedroom, barreling you into the opposite wall as he presses your wrists into the wall above you, eliciting a light moan from your lips.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes penetrating yours, looking for the truth.

“Positive,” you lower your voice, meeting the intensity of his gaze as his eyes turn from kind friend to bedroom fiend.

Plowing his lips into yours, he pries your mouth open, furiously searching for your tongue. Your arms still pinned above you, you grind your thick hips into his growing erection, feeling it bulge from his boxers, setting itself free thru the unbuttoned hole.

As Derek latches on to your neck, grazing his teeth over the extra skin he pulls away from your neck, growling into your skin, causing your peach fuzz to stand on end from head to toe.

You pull him closer, your panties soaked in your juices. He wraps his arm around your waist, the other finding the back of your neck, and he whips you two around and throws you back first onto the bed.

Scurrying his hands up your legs, he rips your underwear away, a loud tearing sound happening in the process, only aiding in your quickly heightening arousal.

You feel his hands slowly play with the inside of your thighs, tempting your soaking wet folds with the cold tips of his fingers.

“Derek,” you breathe into the air, desperate for his body to be connected with yours.

“Beautiful,” he says as he places kisses on the inside of your ankle, slowly trailing up until you could feel his breath on your entrance.

Shuddering at his warmth cascading over your wetness, you pull him up to your face, your eyes begging for his filling.

“I’ve been teased for an entire month. Get inside. Now.”

As his eyes glisten with lust, a smirk crosses his face. “Will we need a condom?” he asks.

Shaking your head slowly, you lean up to his ear, bucking your hips as his rock hard dick slides deep into your tightening walls.

“That’s the perk about being with me,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his back and digging your fingertips into his writhing muscles. “Skin to skin is always so much better anyway,” you tease as your tongue flicks out to trap his earlobe within your teeth.

And as you both fill the room with moans and pants, you find his name tumbling from your lips as you feel him pump and pulsate, filling you with his seed as your body convulses with the high of his body meshed with yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laying in your bed, his arms wrapped around you as your head lays on his chest, you breathe a sigh of relief as he chuckles and kisses the top of your disheveled head.

“What was that for?”

Feeling nervous again, you wiggle around as you say, “I thought that…maybe… you hadn’t reciprocated…well…because of my body.”

As the room goes silent, he picks you up under your arms and tosses you on top of him, your face towards him as your naked breasts press down into his rippling chest.

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say something like that again,” he says sternly, before softening his features and pushing your hair back behind your ear. “You are beautiful, and sassy, and sexy, and unlike any woman I’ve ever been attracted to.”

Nodding slowly, you tumble back off to the side and throw your leg over his, cuddling close to him as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

“I could become addicted to you,” you hear him whisper, his fingers continuing to slowly untangle the lovesick knots within your Y/C/H hair.

Feeling guilty, you hold yourself up on your elbow, your eyes finding his. “Then there’s something I should tell you.”

As he looks over at you, he sees the concern in your eyes as you cast your gaze down to his shoulder. “We didn’t need a condom because I’m on the pill.”

Feeling his entire body tense up, you sigh as you feel that familiar prickling sensation behind your eyes. “Just in case…you know, this goes further than just a…well…you know…”

Hearing Derek suck in a sharp breath, you finish, “…we didn’t need a condom because I don’t have a uterus.”

As Derek sits up, uncontrolled tears stream down your cheeks as he furrows his brow, pulling you close to him.

You could feel the fast beating of his heart, and it was oddly comforting.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Just…lots of scarring. Capture. Torture. You know…the things that come with my background before my retirement from…well, what I did.”

“Y/N, I don’t care about that,” he says as he lifts your gaze to his. “Honestly? I thought you were going to tell me that you weren’t on the pill and that you were going to need Plan B or some mess like that.”

Cocking your eyebrow, you chuckle to yourself, realizing the real reason why his heart had been racing. “I take it you’ve been in that situation yourself?”

“Not…exactly,” he emphasizes, and as you burst out into laughter, falling onto your back on the bed, you feel him lay down beside you, chuckling in your ear, just grateful to see you smiling again.

“Oh, geez!” you yelp as your stomach starts to hurt. “Does every woman on this planet really want to tame the infamous Derek Morgan?”

And as you hear his chuckle grow into a guffaw to match yours, tears of laughter start to stream down both of your cheeks as you lay in bed, naked and sweaty, writhing in hilarity…all the while, a silent page slowly turning in both of your books of life.


	10. Bright As Night

As you step into the elevator at work, you shuffle your feet around nervously. You were ready to get back to your life, just as much as you were ready for the distraction that work would provide.

“You know you have another two weeks you can cash in, if you’re not ready,” you hear Derek say beside you.

Nodding your head slowly, he flips the switch to stop the elevator, turning his entire body towards you.

“I’m serious,” he says, lowering his voice and grabbing your shoulders to turn your body towards his, “If you’re not ready, just say the word. We will turn this elevator around and go right back to your place.”

Smiling you put your hand to his cheek. “You are so incredible, Derek Morgan, but this is something that I have to do. I can’t continue to squander my life by choosing my bed over work, and I can’t continue to rob those of the help they need from people like us by choosing wallowing over helping.”

As he nods slowly, he flips the switch back, causing the elevator doors to open....and standing to meet your gaze is the entire team.

“Welcome back,” Rossi says with a sly smile.

“How are you feeling?” Aaron reaches out to take your hand in his.

Taking a deep breath, you sigh and nod your head, “Ready to be useful again.”

As the rest of the team hugs you and pats you on the back, welcoming you back into the family, you look up towards Strauss and give her a faint nod. You knew that you were sticking around for this family, for better or for worse, and Strauss was more than willing to push the paperwork thru.

As Garcia throws her arms around you and squeals, you chuckle as you say in her ear, “I hear you’ve been a little understaffed down there.”

Throwing a look at Derek, she shakes her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says in her reassuring voice, which only furthers your gut-feeling on how swamped she is.

As Aaron approaches you from behind, he puts his hand on your back as he grins down at you. Looking up at him with a cocked eyebrow, you say, “I could give you a hand...you know, if you need it.”

As Garcia’s eyes widen, she takes your hands in hers and yelps, “You’re a techie as well as a tackler!?”

Giggling, Aaron urges you to tell her. “Come on, Y/N,” he bumps you with his hip.

“Come on, what?” Garcia says, concern and curiosity flooding her face.

Looking back towards Penelope, you hold out your hand and say, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you ‘Black Queen,’ I have to say, I am a fan.”

As shock floods her face, her jaw unhinges as the team whips their heads around at what you just said.

As Garcia limply shakes your hand, you lean into her ear and mutter, “The name is ‘Bright As Night.’“

“Oh. My. GOD!” she screams as she throws her arms around you, squeezing you until your face turns red. “Oh my god! No. You’re kidding! Are you serious!?!”

“What!?” the team yells as Aaron stands there laughing.

Turning towards them, Garcia takes your hand and pulls you to her side, “This!” she points to you, “This...this woman! This is ‘Bright As Night’!”

As J.J. and Reid turn to look at you, you look over to Garcia with a questioning glance.

“So, you’re the arch-nemesis?” Reid says, chuckling.

Feigning shock, you turn to Garcia and put your hand over your heart, “Arch-nemesis!? Well, I am just appalled, Penelope. I would have rather thought we were friends!”

Slapping you playfully on the arm, she grabs your hand and whips you towards the hallway. “Come with me, madam! Let me usher you to our lair.”

And as the team watches you stumble behind Garcia, Derek lets out a worried sigh as he runs his hand over his head.

“Hey,” Aaron says, crooking his finger towards him.

As Derek walks over, Aaron leans in close. “How is she, really?”

Taking a deep breath, Derek says, “I don’t know, Hotch. One day she’s crying so hard she can’t eat, and then yesterday, she wakes up a totally different person, saying it’s time for work. I didn’t let her come in. We went out yesterday and got some food, browsed a craft store, even hit up a yarn shop. I didn’t even know she read or did crafts!”

Nodding his head slowly, they both turn their heads to look down the hallway you had stumbled into.

“Honestly?” Aaron says, “I didn’t know, either.”

“Do you think...?” Derek doesn’t finish his sentence.

“...that she is trying to make up for lost time?” Aaron tries to finish.

“Something like that,” Derek muses, gazing off into the distance.

That’s when Aaron puts his hand on Derek’s shoulder, patting it lightly. “I think that if she continues to feel for you the way you feel for her, that she won’t have too many issues for too long.”

And as Derek gawks at Hotch as he walks away, he sighs, turning back to the now empty hallway, willing himself with all of his might not to follow you down.


	11. The Haze Lifts

It’s been a month since you first started helping Garcia down in the tech room, and you realized that the team was more efficient that way. Derek was back to tackling the bad guys, you were out of the field, and you were putting your other skills to use when you could: helping Reid solve problems, occasionally funneling thru information alone when Garcia felt overwhelmed, and now you knew that she was eating because, well, you also ran to go get the food.

You enjoyed the family dynamic that you had found yourself in the middle of.

But, you didn’t know where things lied with Derek.

Sure, the two of you had slept together. And it was good. And it was passionate.

And it was on fire.

But, ever since you had returned to work, things couldn’t be more opposite. You only spoke when you needed to, there was never any “after work fraternizing,” and you figured that maybe, after taking the car for a test drive, that you weren’t the type of model car he was wanting.

So you had pushed it out of your mind...

That is, until Garcia started prodding.

“So...how’s Morgan?”

Cocking your eyebrow, you look slyly over at her. “Um...I suppose he’s good.”

“You two getting along fine?”

Chuckling to yourself, you turn your chair towards her and lean back, “Yes. We work together well.”

“Oh honey,” she muses, turning to face you, “I didn’t mean work.”

“Well, outside of that I wouldn’t know.”

Watching Garcia’s eyebrows raise, she turns her body flush to yours. “Wait...what?”

“I haven’t seen him outside of work since we’ve been back, Penelope.”

“B-but...” she stammers, “But, why!? We see how he looks at you!”

Furrowing your brow, you had no idea what she was talking about.

“Sweetheart, are you really that blind?”

Turning back towards the computer screen, you throw your walls up. “It doesn’t matter how he looks at me, all that matters is that he fucked me, and now he doesn’t even so much as say ‘hello’ unless we are talking over the phone about case matters.”

Seeing Garcia’s jaw plummet to the floor, she leans in and starts to whisper, “You two slept together!?”

“Yeah. Whatever,” you shrug, ready for the conversation to end.

“Oh, no...” she trails off, shaking her head.

You know. You knew you had screwed up by sleeping with him. One of the things your mother had always taught you was to keep him waiting. That keeping him waiting would keep him around.

Oh well...it was fun while it lasted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Reid’s phone dings with a message from Garcia, his eyes widen as he shuffles his phone back into his pocket.

“So...how’s Y/N doing?” he asks Morgan, eyeing him closely.

“Good, as far as I can tell,” he says, not taking his eyes off of the paperwork in front of him.

“Adjusting back to work well?” he asks, trying to find a way in.

“I suppose so,” he says, brushing him off.

“You know...I don’t know much about women but...I see the way she looks at you...”

And for the first time, Morgan picks his head up from his desk. “Is there something you wanna say, Reid?”

“All I’m saying is, when you two think the other isn’t looking, the two of you couldn’t be more in to each other...but when you are together, the two of you couldn’t be more disgusted.”

“Disgusted!?” he says, slamming his pen down on the table, “I’m anything but!”

Holding up the message on his phone, Morgan takes it out of his hand and reads it:

They slept together. They haven’t seen each other out of work. She’s closing off.

As Morgan’s brow furrows, he shakes he head and starts out of his office. “I gotta go see someone about something,” he mutters, flying down the stairs at a rapid pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sighing, you look down at the clock.

6 pm.

“Alright,” you say, getting up from your seat. “Time for dinner.”

“Well, give me a second and I’ll come with you,” Garcia muses, typing a little slower than usual.

“Penelope, while I’m flattered, I don’t take kindly to being treated like an idiot,” you spit.

Whipping her head around to face you, she opens her mouth to say something, but you stop her before she can continue. “I know you messaged someone, and I know you’re trying to stall me for something, and I’m not having it. You’re not a matchmaker, and I’m not a keeper. Just...be ok with that, alright?”

“No, but-” she goes to but in.

“No!” you roar, catching even yourself off-guard. “Just...no. Please be one of the few people I’ve met that understand the meaning of that word.”

Turning towards the door, your hand is on the handle before Garcia gets up and latches on to your other wrist.

“Don’t think it’s you,” she says really fast.

Sighing, you turn the doorknob.

“Whatever you think, whatever you do...don’t think it’s you with the problem.”

Feeling tears crest your eyes for the first time since your return to work, you yank your arm out of her grasp, whip the door open, and start for the hallway.

It was then that you ran into something sturdy. Something strong...

Something familiar.

Stumbling backwards, a hand reaches out and wraps around your waist, steadying you on your feet as your vision slowly readjusts to the immovable force in front of you.

“Whoa there,” he says.

Clenching your jaw, you wriggle out of his grasp, shooting your misty-eyed stare up at his face as you clench your fists.

“What?” you huff.

“I think maybe we need to talk,” he says wearily, trying to take your hand again.

“No,” you say, holding your hand up at him, “No, you don’t get to do this to me. I do this to you.”

Catching the surprise in Derek’s face, you look back down at his chest and start your ramble. “I’ve had weeks to think about what I would say to you, if you ever had the gumption to tell me that I was a mistake. And you don’t get to tell me that. Not you, not now, and not here. If you wanted that option you should’ve at least given me the decency of doing it somewhere private.”

“Y/N, No, I-” he tries to interrupt you, but you keep on going.

“I get it that I’m big, and I get it that I’m imperfect, and I get it that I like pizza and drink too much sweet tea and have way too many nightmares to sleep like a normal human being. But that’s what I am, a human being, with wants and needs and sexual urges and fantasies. And you, with your muscles and your smile and your chuckle and your strong hands and your reassuring glances, you knew I would fall privy to that, like so many other girls before me. You knew that I had been used and abused,” poking your finger into his chest, ”you knew, and yet you still...with all of that knowledge...laid in bed with me after we slept together and provided a false sense of hope. Hope that you would still pick up the phone even after we returned to work. Hope that you would never leave my side, even when things started to get rough. Hope that you would still find me beautiful even when I was shoving my face full of pizza, pants-less, on the couch, scratching my itching crotch for god’s sake!”

Throwing your arms in the air, you turn around and take a deep breath. You turn back to face him, realizing that he has staggered back, trying deserately to catch your gaze. “And here we are, me being held back be your little minion down here,” you motion to Garcia, still standing in the lab, “while you try to tell me how you don’t want to lose my friendship, or how you see me as a little sister, or how you still think I need to ‘heal emotionally’, you say sarcastically in air quotes, “or whatever bullshit you planned on feeding me that you’ve probably fed to so many other women in so many similar scenarios where you felt the need to swoop in and be the hero. Well, I don’t need a hero, Morgan,” you spit his name, pushing him in his chest so he stumbles backwards, “I need a man. A real, bonafide, strong, sexy, romantic, luscious man. And you, my friend, are not it.”

Giving him one more shove, you push yourself past him, tears streaming down your face, your body visibly shaking as you try to keep your legs steady enough to make it to the stairway door.

But just as you reach for the door knob, you feel a sharp grasp around your arm, followed by a tug so strong that it whips your body completely around, barreling you into this rock of a man whom you’ve just debased in front of the entire tech squad at the FBI headquarters.

“And you don’t get to do this to me,” he says, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for the deepest, wettest, most passionate kiss you have ever obtained from a man...your knees shaking and your breath hitching...as his tongue explores slowly, finding yours in an everlasting dance of passions, questions, and desires.

Moving your hand up to his head, you pull him in closer, his shoulders stooping down to give you exactly what you want, as his hands meander up and down your back, digging his fingertips into the softness of your skin as your knees give way...him holding you up with his arms as he presses deeper into your lips, clattering his teeth against yours.

Breathless and shaking, he finally breaks the kiss, bringing his hand up to your cheek as he continues to hold you up with his other arm, his thumb caressing your flushed skin.

“I came down here to tell you that I’m sorry,” he lowers his voice, slowly sitting his forehead against yours, “I believe I took Rossi’s advice of ‘giving you space’ a little too seriously.”

And finally, whipping your eyes up to meet his for the first time since he appeared at Garcia’s lab’s door, you furrow your brow as realization crosses your face.

“You didn’t know what to do...” you trail off, talking to no one in particular, and as you feel Derek’s head nod slowly against yours, you wrap your arms around his neck as you slowly gain strength back in your wobbling knees.

“I just didn’t know...” he murmurs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent as you run your fingertips reassuringly up and down his back.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, your eyes misting over again. How much pain this man must have been in...this man in your arms. This strong, fluid, beautiful man.

“Me, too,” he mumbles, his breath hot against your neck.

And as the two of you stand there, wrapped up in each others embrace, you don’t even realize the rest of the people around you trickling out of the room, shutting down computers and giving you both the peace and quiet you so desperately need.


	12. A Different Kind of Love

Finally parting your lips from him, you furrow your brow and look up at him.

“Next time, go with your gut,” you say, winking at him.

Chuckling, he raises his hand and tucks a lone strand of hair behind your ear, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Laying your head on his chest, you cringe at the idea of asking, but after that kiss...that beautiful, deep, passionate kiss...you need to know.

“What is this, Derek?” you mumble, letting him go and taking a step back. “I mean, what are we doing?”

Lowering his arms, reality etching itself back into his face, his eyes lock on to yours.

“I figured we could talk about that over dinner. That’s...what I was initially coming down here to ask...if you wanted to go have dinner.”

And right on time, your stomach erupts in the most disgusting manner with a growl that you knew could be heard all the way down the staircase.

Laughing, his eyes squinting shut with his smile, he walks over to you and takes your hands in his, “Come on, beautiful, lets go get some food.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting down at your favorite burger place, you walk up to the counter and order your usual: a double cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard and pickles...with a large order of fries.

“Make that a double order of fries for her order,” Derek leans over and says.

Smirking to yourself, you step aside and let him order, not shocked at all when he gets the 3/4 lb burger packed high with vegetables, skimping on the fries but not being able to resist their homemade milkshakes.

“Gotta watch my figure,” he says, winking at you as you shake your head.

“I know,” you say, rubbing your hands along your thick thighs, “takes a lot of work, you know, keeping this flare up.”

Laughing with him, you two sit down with the table number protruding in the air, waiting on your food as he eyes you from across the table.

“You know, around this area I’m sort of...”

“...a player?” you finish his sentence, your eyebrow shooting up at he chuckles nervously.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that,” he says, picking at the calluses on his hands.

“All I want to know is this,” you say, grabbing his hands to stop his nervous tick, “Are we co-workers with the occasional benefits?...which, by the way, I am totally alright with...” you say, holding your hands up as you playfully flutter your eyelids, “...or, is this building into something that you weren’t quite expecting, but willing to give a shot to?”

His pause was deafening. You know that he is traveling in uncharted waters for Derek Morgan...but you weren’t really swimming in familiar waters yourself. Even if you could only have him physically, as long as you could have him, that was better than nothing at all.

“Y/N, you are an incredible woman...” he starts in, and as you sigh, you can practically rattle off the shpeal that is coming.

“No, no, no...Y/N, let me finish,” he says, pressing his palms into the table as the takes a deep breath.

“You are an intimidating woman. A mystery wrapped in an enigma...and I have no idea what to do with you.”

Cocking an eyebrow into the air, your food gets set in front of you.

Pushing it off to the side, Derek furrows his brow as you say, “It can wait.”

“All my life I’ve always been the fighter...the hero...the one who swoops in and saves the day...you pinged me for it practically from day one.”

Nodding your head, he continues, “...but you. You can fend for yourself. You can fight for yourself. You can save yourself!”

And you prided yourself in that...that you never needed a man do to those things for you.

But you never thought about how that you infringe on his territory if you ever did find a man who wanted to do those things for you.

Sighing, you take his hands in yours. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve always been independent and able to fend for myself, because...well...I’ve always been alone. And when I lost Raymond and Nikito...” you swallow hard, choking back the prickling sensation at the back of your throat, “...it was the first time I didn’t have to do something alone. It was the first time I got to know what it was like to wake up next to someone who cared, someone who gave a damn about what was happening to me. It was the first time I had woken up in a place that I called him and wasn’t alone. I didn’t have to make breakfast, I didn’t have to make my own coffee, and there were times where I didn’t even have to wash my own dishes, Derek,” you say, a smile growing on your face, “and it was incredible. And if I can only have that once in a while whenever we need to cash in our stress, then so be it. I am alright with that.”

As he looks at you with saddened eyes, you continue, “Friends with the occasional benefits is just fine. You can still run and date and do your thing, and if you ever find yourself alone, I can always be someone you call.”

Shaking his head, anger etches on to his face as he slides his food aside, “But you deserve so much more than that, Y/N!” his voice grows, attracting the attention from your eating neighbors.

“Derek...it’s ok...” you stroke the top of his hand, wanting to make him comfortable.

“You aren’t letting me finish!” he starts to bellow, his cheeks reddening.

Retracting your hands, you throw them up in a mock surrender. “I’m sorry,” you say.

Taking a deep breath, he says, “...you can do all of those things, but there is one thing that you can’t do...one thing you can’t do that I can do for you, every day of your life, whether you like it or not.”

Staring at him blankly, he comes around and sits beside you, pulling his food along with him as he slides his arm around your waist.

“I can _love_ you, in a way you can’t love yourself.”

And as you turn your head towards him, those beautiful brown eyes drowning you in their hypnotic stare, you feel Derek reach over and pick up something, pressing it against your lips.

“Now, eat, beautiful,” he says, “your food is getting cold.”


	13. Epilogue

Running through the alleyway, you jump onto a dumpster in order to hop a fence. You heard Derek shouting in your ear, but you tune him out, knowing exactly where the unsub is headed.

Landing on your feet, you scurry to the ladder heading to the roof, barreling over the edge onto the landing just as Reid rounds the corner.

“What the hell is it with her and roofs?” you hear him say, panting as he doubles over as the bottom of the ladder.

Smirking to yourself, you run to the edge of the building, jumping as you reach out for the top of the other roof.

“There she is!” you hear Hotch yell, followed by the screeching of tires.

“How did you ever put up with his?” you hear Rossi say into your ear, chuckling at Aaron’s response.

“Eh, you get used to it. Keeps you in shape.”

“I’ve got eyes on him,” you say, stopping and falling behind a protrusion from the building roof you are currently occupying.

Slowly emerging around the corner, you see the unsub dragging the drugged boy behind him thru the front doors of the abandoned building.

Watching as the team quickly surrounds the building, you scurry over to the edge of the roof facing the abandoned building, waiting for Aaron’s signal.

“Wait for it, Y/L/N,” he says in your ear, your adrenaline on high as you will your body to stay put.

“This is the FBI, Mr. Patterson,” you hear Derek say thru a bullhorn. “Come out with your hands in the air.”

Hearing nothing, you see a light click on, some tussling, and then a blackout.

“Aaron...” you muse, hoping to get him to give you the signal.

“Not just yet,” he says sternly.

Huffing, you take your shirt off and throw it over the power-line, ready to kick off in an instant.

And then, out of nowhere, gunshots.

“Go! Go! Go!”

Kicking off of the roof, you zip-line for the building, someone shooting out the window as you careen, feet first, into the dark room.

“You’re welcome, beautiful,” you hear Derek muse in your ear.

Smiling and shaking your head, you throw open the door and round the corner, hearing a bunch of boys scream out for help.

Drawing your weapon, you hear something drop behind you, followed by a crack up against the back of your head.

Hitting the ground, you groan as you try to roll over, the unsub getting a hold on your hair as he slams you into the wall.

“Hotch! He’s got her!” you hear Derek yell into your earpiece.

Grunting, you take your wrists and place them on his hand, wielding him over your head as he hits his back on the ground with a thud.

Your vision starting to blur, you land heavily on his chest with your knees, knocking the wind out of him as you give him a good punch in the nose.

“Y/N!” you hear Aaron scream out.

“Over here!” you yell, getting up from the unsub’s chest as you step over him and rattle the doorknob.

“Boys!” you yell, “My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m with the FBI. You’re safe. I’m going to kick in the door, so back up.”

After the shuffling behind the door falls silent, you hear Derek yelling your name as he rounds the corner, just as you raise your foot to kick the door in.

“Don’t!” he yells, freezing you in your spot.

“There’s a bomb behind that door. You throw it open and move, all of those boys are done for.”

Furrowing your brow, you look at him and ask, “What kind of bomb is it?”

“It looks to be a pressure-sensor bomb,” you hear Reid say in your ear. “Garcia has eyes on the room from the camera across the street, and it looks like a pressure plate is right in front of the door.

Smiling wickedly, you usher Derek to come over.

“Do you trust me?”

As he looks at you wildly, you grab his face and ask again. “Do you trust me?”

As he nods, you turn back towards the door. “Open it.”

“What?” he asks again, his face contorted with surprise.

“Just do it,” you say, growing agitated.

As Derek slowly opens the door, you hear the boys gasp as he steps on the pressure plate, hearing it click.

“Now, don’t move,” you say as you jump up onto Derek’s back and wrap your legs around him.

“Steady yourself,” you muse lowly into his ear, lifting his arms up as you scoot yourself underneath them, your chest now flush to his.”

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes wild with questions.

“Just...keep rooted, alright?” you say, bending your torso backwards, looking at the bomb upside-down.

Slowly but surely, you reach your hands out and slowly unwrap the wires from the positive and negative charges on the wire.

“Reid, let me know when Garcia sees a flash. It won’t be visible to my eye, but that flash will mean that the bomb is diffused.”

Slowly unwrapping the first wire, you toss it off to the side, holding your breath as you slowly unwrap the second one, Derek’s hands keeping your lower back steady.

Undoing the last coil to the wire, you hear Reid in your ear.

“Flash confirmed.”

Smiling, you toss the wire off to the side and lean back up, your face now directly in front of Derek’s.

Smirking, you plant a light kiss on his nose, climbing off of him as he steps off of the plate and towards the little boys.

“It’s alright,” you hear him muse as you turn to walk away from the door. “You’re all safe now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking out of the building, J.J. and Prentiss come flying at you, their arms encircling you in a huge hug.

“We all saw it from the camera,” he grab your arm, whipping you around into the truck to show you the footage.

“That was a hell of a move, girl,” Garcia looks up at you and grins, your smirk brimming into a full-fledged smile.

“Y/N?” you hear Aaron say in your ear.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Good job,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

As you watch all of the boys emerge from the building, Aaron and Derek at their sides, you flash them a smile as Aaron shuffles them over to the waiting ambulances, Derek walking towards you with a devilish grin on his face.

“Beautiful,” he says, bringing the back of his hand to your cheek, caressing it lightly, “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m just full of tricks and surprises,” you muse, winking at him as he giggles like a schoolgirl.

“So, what are the plans now?” Reid says, standing in the corner and sipping his coffee.

“What do you mean?” you ask him, turning towards the spindly man in curiosity.

“Well, you two have slept together, fallen in love, and have dated for a little while now. Ever thought about tying the knot?”

As everyone’s eyebrows raise, Rossi comes and stands behind Derek, patting his shoulder with a thud.

“The day this man officially comes off of the market is the day that girls around the country weep,” he muses, winking lightly at Derek as his smile dulls in to a smirk.

“We’re just taking things a day at a time,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. “Besides, I love this girl,” he says, looking down at you with softening eyes. “I’m going nowhere, whether she likes it or not.”

Shaking your head slowly, you place your head on his chest, your arms coming up and wrapping around him as you watch the ambulances ride off in to the distance with the boys and their families.

“Do you think they’ll be alright?” you ask, your eyes slowly drooping as exhaustion hits your body full-force.

“I think, with time, they will be,” he says, catching your yawn as you cover your mouth with your hand.

“I think someone needs some sleep,” he says, running his fingers thru your hair.

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” you say, looking up at him sleepily and giving him a weak smile.

“Besides,” he muses, tugging on the silver chain around your neck, “You’re going to need your energy for the looming Bachelorette Party,” he lulls, slowly pulling the glistening diamond ring from your bosom.

Groaning, you say, “We really do have to tell them, don’t we?”

Chuckling, he says, “Yes, beautiful. Because they are going to want to help us plan the wedding.”

“But I don’t care about the difference between eggshell and champagne!” you playfully whimper into his chest, feeling your eyes drooping lower and lower.

“That’s alright,” he whispers in to your ear, “because you know Garcia does.”

And as Derek slowly tucks the ring back into your chest, he picks your tired body up in his arms and carries you over to the truck, sliding you into the back and shutting the door behind you.


End file.
